Tradition
by CaptainReina
Summary: Sheik struggles between the task he has been given and being true with himself. Link helps him reach a conclusion. (Sheik and Zelda are separate people)


**idk man i just wanted a smad sheik so here u go**

**it's a well known fact that link is a fucking criminal**

.

_Here lie the souls of those who swore fealty to the Royal Family of Hyrule. The Sheikah, guardians of the Royal Family and founders of Kakariko, watch over these spirits in their eternal slumber._

Sheik's fingers traced delicately over the worn tablet, dipping into the grooves of the letters carved into the old stone. He knew the inscription by heart. He had read it many a time, nearly daily, since the very beginning of his training, and every day it grew more and more solemn.

Once, he felt some sort of reverence, looking upon the graveyard. Now he resented the words. How many of his people died for a world that knew nothing of their existence? Would he meet the same fate, unseen, unknown, unappreciated? Was that truly how the Sheikah line was meant to end?

Sheik's feet carried him to the far end of the graveyard, and he seated himself on the low pedestal of the stone slab marking the Royal Family's Tomb. With a grim sense of satisfaction, he wondered if this was some sort of taboo or desecration of their grave. If anyone had the right to disrespect them, it was him. What were a bunch of long-dead arrogant nobility going to do to him, anyway?

The low, solemn notes of an ocarina drifted on the wind to his sensitive ears. Sheik raised his head, peering over the headstones to spot the telltale green tunic. The Hero had not noticed him, it seemed. Sheik held his hand out as a droplet of water hit his ear, and another two or three fell onto his palm, gathering in the center. Just his luck. The rain picked up quickly, and all Sheik could really do was huddle closer against the cold stone.

"Sheik?"

The Hero wasted no time getting to the far end of the graveyard. Sheik raised his hand in a casual wave, offering a bitter half-smile he knew Link could not see past his cowl. He knew he should stand, should bow and apologize for the moment of unprofessionalism, but he could not bring himself to care. Instead he closed his eyes and tilted his face toward the gray sky, relishing in the feeling of cold droplets on his face.

"Oh - " Link fumbled in one of his several pouches for his ocarina, procuring it a second later with a guilty grin. "If I knew you were here . . . "

"Leave it," Sheik replied mildly. He cracked one ruby eye open to see Link squinting at him, confused, and nearly chuckled to himself.

"You'll get soaked," he protested. Sheik patted the stone next to him again, more insistent, and Link complied, plopping down next to him heavily.

"And you?" Sheik questioned. _Why call the rain?_

"I, uh." Pink consumed Link's ears and crawled up his neck, a charming sight. "It's atmospheric."

Sheik snorted quietly into his cowl, and Link relaxed a little next to him. The rain bore down on them, increasing in volume, and after a moment's hesitation Sheik snapped his fingers lightly. Blue light erupted in his palm, and familiarity sparked in Link's pretty blue eyes as the light grew, rose, and solidified into a transparent screen above them that stopped the rain from hitting them.

"How do you do that?" Link asked, voice full of unashamed awe. He reached forward, fingers brushing the material. It was like glass and cool to the touch, Sheik already knew.

"Nayru's Love," Sheik mumbled, cheeks heating a little. "An alternate application."

"Can you teach me how?"

It was not impossible to say no to those sparkling blues, but Sheik was in a rebellious mood. "Someday, I will."

It was wrong, terribly wrong. He should not be speaking to the Hero of Time in such a way, but he could not bring himself to care. If letting his guard down and speaking casually to his charge was a sin, so be it, because Link looked so fascinated under their makeshift roof and Sheik would damn himself before any spirit could if he broke the spell.

"So what brings you here?" Link asked a moment later, gesturing out toward the gloomy area around them. "Not really a good meditation spot."

Unwilling to answer, more out of embarrassment than courtesy, Sheik countered, "What brings _you _here, Hero?"

He was fairly certain he knew the answer. His suspicions were confirmed when Link grew pink again, rubbing at his neck nervously and giving a short chortle. "It's . . . not very heroic."

"Graverobbing?"

"Don't say it like that!" Link threw his hands up like a barrier against the accusation, eyes wide. "I just - there's useful stuff around here, and I could really use all the help I can get - "

"The dead won't miss it," Sheik finished for him, calm where Link was defensive. "I understand. There aren't many shops around nowadays."

Link relaxed a little, nodding. "Yeah," he agreed. After a beat of silence, he added, "You didn't answer me, though."

He had to look away from those pretty eyes, the concern growing in them at his silence growing too personal even for his spite-fueled rebellion. Sitting with Link in such a casual manner, speaking with him so informally, feeling the warmth of him against his side like he was next to the sun - it was all far too much. It was one thing to allow casual conversation, but another to treat the Hero as a confidant. As a friend.

_I want to answer you, _Sheik longed to say. _I could tell you all about this place. About my people, about their sacred duty, about _my _sacred duty. About me._

"Intentionally," he said instead.

_Let it go, _he silently begged.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Link asked, infuriatingly, and Sheik was positive he had that sweet puppy look on his face, inquisitive and concerned. "I know you're the whole silent loner type, but talking helps. I can listen." A pause, and then more quietly, "I used to be a loner, too. It sucks."

"I shouldn't talk about it." He wanted to say he could not, would not, but those would be lies. If Link pushed only a little harder than he already was, Sheik knew he would break his oath.

"You shouldn't?" Link echoed, frown audible. "Says who?"

_A bunch of dead people, _Sheik thought glumly. _Dead people, rules, and a stupid sense of honor._

His stomach twisted; the atmosphere of the entire graveyard seemed to shift all at once, and he felt Link shift beside him to rub his bare arms. He should not keep talking. It was a warning, a reminder of his promises, of the oath uttered since his childhood - repeated daily to the point that he remembered it by heart but was numb to the words, scarcely conscious of its meaning anymore. To break it would undoubtedly bring consequences. When those consequences would come or who would deliver them was a mystery, but Sheik was certain it would happen.

"I could talk to you for hours," he said anyway.

It was not an answer to Link's question, but it was enough; the Hero turned to face him, and Sheik could see his wide eyes in his peripheral. He could not bear to meet them. Instead, he turned his face upward, watching the turbulent clouds through the blue hue of their makeshift roof.

"Away from the world, of its weight on your shoulders," Sheik continued, "away from the burden of guiding you. What I would not give to truly talk to you, to anyone, but it isn't my place. This - " He gestured between the two of them. " - this is taboo enough. I'm breaking enough rules simply by speaking with you unnecessarily."

He could not muster the courage to look at Link, but his tone was more than enough to picture his indignant frown. "What kind of dumb rules are those? We can't just talk like this?"

"They're rules I agreed to," Sheik answered, perhaps a tad curt. It was one thing to insult his own culture, but to hear the words from the mouth of another had his hackles rising. "If I followed the old way, you would never even see me. As it is, I will be punished for speaking to you just like this."

He wished desperately for that to be the end of it. Of course the only time Link would ever let him down would be now.

"So what I'm hearing is," Link said slowly, his skeptical tone turning Sheik's head, "there's a whole set of stupid rules stopping you from being my friend?"

Sheik sighed at the wording, but nodded. "Yes."

"And that's the only thing stopping you?"

Sheik hesitated. Then, more slowly, "Yes."

"Well,_ I'm_ not going to tell anyone if you break them," Link said, crossing his arms for half a second before sweeping one out in a wide arc, gesturing to the vast rows of graves. "Skeletons are pretty great at keeping secrets, too."

It was surprisingly cynical of him, though Sheik supposed the hardships Link had faced would change anyone at least a bit. It was also false - the dead were quite talkative - and not at all how the system worked, but Sheik snorted quietly anyway.

It was a terrible time to be having this conversation. Sheik was in one of his moods, that was all - as a teenager with little to no guidance, his only mentor figure gone off to her higher purpose, of course he would grow bitter. Of course he would have days where he resented his life and duty. He was weak, his will wavering, and it was the absolute wrong time for Link to show up like this, looking so lonely and being so friendly and -

"Please, Sheik?"

Spoken so softly, the plea almost a prayer. Sheik's hands went to his face, as though if he rubbed hard enough he could wash away the overwhelming loneliness that drew them together. As though he could massage some sense into his stupid brain, remind himself that these rules were in place for a reason and that his feelings should not get in the way.

"If you don't want to, just say so," Link continued, and Sheik's chest constricted in panic. Of course he wanted to. How could Link believe anyone else? Who wouldn't want to fly too close to the sun that was the Hero? However, Link added, "But you really seem like you do," and Sheik relaxed minutely.

"Perhaps it's a reflection of my failure," he muttered past his hands, "that you can see through me so clearly."

"Or my success," Link huffed, and Sheik could envision the childish pout far before he finally worked up the courage to peek through his fingers.

"Hero - "

"You can just call me Link, you know - "

" - may I be transparent with you?"

"Mr. Mysterious can get even more transparent than he's being now?" Link joked, butting shoulders with him, and it was so incredibly casual and friendly that the warring sides of _wrong _and _more _inside Sheik grew even more frenzied. "You ask that like I haven't been trying to get you to open up for ages, Sheik. Of course you can."

It was still another long moment before Sheik could muster up the courage to bare his face once more, and then even longer before he started to speak, but Link's smile was patient and encouraging and Sheik knew he would have waited hours just to listen.

"I want more than anything to be your equal," Sheik confessed, and could not tell if it lifted the weight from his shoulders or added to the burden. "To shed this responsibility, so that we could be . . . friends."

The word was foreign on his tongue. Friends. A word he never should have uttered before te Hero. He could all but feel his ancestors rolling in their graves beneath his feet.

"Just admitting to this inner turmoil is breaking my oath. Some might argue merely thinking it is bad enough. It's . . . infuriating, that I may as well spit on my ancestors' graves for the lack of difference between sins. That I may as well go the whole mile despite not being certain I'm prepared for it. I don't want to break my oath, but just speaking my thoughts does so."

"That's stupid," Link blurted, the interruption welcome amongst the creeping dread rising in Sheik's chest. The sinking realization that there was quite literally no going back now, even if Sheik backpedaled as hard as he could, was making him nauseous. "You're a person, Sheik! Won't they even allow you to be that much? You're allowed to have thoughts and feelings and talk them out - everyone is!"

"You're wrong," Sheik replied quietly. His fingers came up to his cowl, tugging it higher on his face as though to hide. "I am less than a person. Were I not already born such, I cemented it by taking my vows."

"Sheik, _no." _Link sounded so distressed at his words, and a heavy hand clamped on his shoulder, extremely distracting in the reassuring way it squeezed. "Sheik," Link repeated, and the Sheikah realized he wanted eye contact, so, hesitantly, he turned to face the Hero.

Link took his other shoulder, intoxicatingly close, and every nerve in Sheik screamed _wrong - _but it was effectively muted by the blood pounding in Sheik's ears at their proximity. Those pretty blues flitted all over Sheik's face as Link worked his jaw, as though trying to figure out what to say, and it took long enough that Sheik averted his gaze, glad his cowl hid his flush.

"Sheik," Link tried again, "you . . . today - this is the most human you've _ever _acted around me, and - and I still barely know you! You're still this - this untouchable being - "

"You're touching me right now," Sheik pointed out dryly, and Link jerked his hands away as though scalded. Some part of Sheik missed the contact.

"Sorry," Link blurted. He shook his head, willing away his nervousness, and Sheik waited patiently. "What I'm trying to say is - you can be this mysterious brooding enigma without . . . "

"Without?"

Link paused. He lowered his hands into his lap, a respectable distance away once more, and laced them together. Their eye contact was broken as he stared at his hands. "Without . . . well, without leaving me all alone."

The silence stretched on for a long while, Link's vulnerability laid bare, and something soft and deeply understanding wormed its way into Sheik's heart. He felt a fool; all this time spent following Link around, watching his progress, and he had yet to notice Link's loneliness. Of course the Hero traveled alone, save for his fairy companion, but that did not necessarily translate to loneliness, and Link hid it well - in all of Sheik's observing, he had never heard the Hero confess to such a thing.

How long had he been bottling this up?

"You're supposed to be barely aware I exist," Sheik told him, voice soft, a reminder more to himself than to Link. Already he could feel his resolve slipping, draining away, and he knew Link would only have to push a little more to make him crack. "I'm supposed to serve you from the shadows, intercepting only when necessary."

"If you're supposed to serve me," Link sighed, leaning back on his palms, "why can't it be on _my _terms?"

"And your terms are?"

Link spared him a glance from the corner of his eye, and slowly, his head turned to face Sheik's inquisitive eyes. "Well," he tested out, "I'd . . . really like a traveling companion. Someone to watch my back."

"I am always watching your back," Sheik told him honestly, and Link huffed, cheeks puffing out cutely.

"I could watch your back, too," he replied. "You'd be safe with me."

There was something so earnest and _sweet _about the offer, and Sheik ducked back into his cowl once more, willing the heat in his cheeks to subside. It was almost terrifying, how much effort it took not to leap on the idea. He already traveled ten steps behind - why not beside? It was becoming incredibly difficult to convince himself of otherwise, and if he was being honest with himself, he did not want to anymore.

"It would be quite unconventional," he finally said, and Link rolled his eyes so hard Sheik thought they might get stuck.

"With all due respect, Sheik," Link said, voice growing a bit loud in his exasperation, "I really, _really don't care__. _The world is _literally going to end, _and I have to stop it. I think have a _bit_ more to worry about than what your long-dead ancestors think - and really, so do you! What do you have to gain by following their hermit rules, huh? Stunted social skills and early gray hairs?"

Sheik huffed out a laugh at his indignant expression, unable to help himself, and Link flailed his arms about beside him at the dismissive sound. "It's you, Hero, giving me gray hairs," he replied, "not the rules. You're very good at diving head-first into certain death."

"Then you can be the first one there to save me," Link protested petulantly, and Sheik could not help the smile hidden under his cowl. He peered upward, past the shield to the gray sky, tinted blue by the magic barrier.

"These rules weren't always so detrimental to my people's well-being," he said, though it was not with the tension of carefully-chosen words as it had been minutes before. "When we were a people, not a person. When there were many of us. It is only you I am forbidden from speaking to - when I had Impa, she gave me advice, and often guided me as I do you. There were only two of us, but it . . . it was enough."

"She meant a lot to you." It wasn't a question, but Sheik nodded anyway.

"She did."

"I'm sorry," Link said, but this time Sheik shook his head.

"It was her fate," he replied. "She knew, I think, that she would be leaving me soon. And now, here I am - alone."

The word was heavy on his tongue. He had always known it, but it was another to speak it aloud. Link's arm slipping around his shoulders was foreign, but not unwelcome, and Sheik's eyes slid closed, letting his posture relax. He was growing tired, both of this conversation and beyond the scope of it.

"You don't have to be," Link murmured.

"I know," Sheik whispered back. "Neither do you."

"You mean - ?"

Sheik stood, and Link followed the motion, blinking in surprise at the hand offered to him. Still, he accepted it, and Sheik hoisted him up off the tombstone, the cover over their heads shifting with them. Sheik did not release his hand; instead, he sunk to a bow, Link's hand held delicately in his own, and Link stared in bewilderment at the gesture.

"At the behest of my charge," Sheik said with a grand sweep of his free arm, "I am to accompany the Hero on his journey." Link realized with a start that Sheik was not speaking to him so much as the graves around him. "This coincides with my oath, thus this is the path I will follow."

He straightened from the low stoop, and the grin Link gave him was as dazzling as the sun. "Glad to have you along, Sheik!"

Sheik smiled back, and though Link could not see his lips, he did notice the way his eyes crinkled at the corners. "I'm glad to be here."

The rain was starting to lighten around them. Sheik extended a hand past the boundary of his magic to feel the droplets on his palm, confirming his observation, and allowed the protective magic above them to dissipate. The scattered raindrops that hit his skin were pleasantly cool. Link seemed to agree, lingering in the downfall for a moment longer before setting off toward the entrance of the graveyard.

"We'd best be off, then," the Hero chirped, a bounce in his step, and Sheik followed only two steps behind this time.


End file.
